


Four Times Elizabeth And John Didn't Have Sex, And One Time They Did

by Magnavox_23



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 05:32:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnavox_23/pseuds/Magnavox_23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title basically says it all…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times Elizabeth And John Didn't Have Sex, And One Time They Did

**One**

Only a spattering of rain now falls on Atlantis. The storm passed a few hours back, leaving behind a soft breeze and the hint of lightning dancing off into the distance. After securing all essential systems, most of the remaining expedition has retired for the afternoon. The rest won’t be back until tomorrow. 

Elizabeth watches the retreating storm on the balcony. The woollen shawl wrapped around her is possibly the most civilian piece of clothing she owns. Right now, she wants to step as far away from the military as possible. Her head drops forward as she hears the door slide open, and the-tell tale footsteps of John on the rain washed floor.

“Nice... ” he remarks, gesturing to her attire. Elizabeth smirks at his appraisal, facing the ocean. They both let the silence stand for as long as possible, before John shivers in the chilled air. “Seriously though,” he turns toward her, “Are you ok?”  
“I will be.” she replies, feeding him his own words. Her eyes seem more certain than earlier, but the apprehension and fear is all too clear. Her hazel eyes hold his own for a time, both asking for room to process all of this, and pleading to take her out of the nightmare. 

He notices her eyes flicker to his lips a second before she blinks, turning her head. “Okay.” he whispers, a small grin upon his lips as he turns to leave, brushing his shoulder lightly against hers.

**Two**

Her lips are ripped cruelly from his. “No!” she shouts at the same time John roars in anger. Their faces are but a foot apart, eyes focussed on one another, oblivious to their attackers, ignorant to why they have been separated. They continue to strain forward, desperate to reconnect.

“John!” she struggles, but someone has her arms, slowly, they’re pulling her away, she can’t go, she needs him, he needs her! She sees the same happening to John before she is confronted with faces. Vague, yet familiar. Who are they? Why are they taking her away from John? One is telling her ‘calm down lass’. Who is Lass? She is Elizabeth and she wants John. She almost doesn’t feel the pinprick in her arm, all she wants is John. “John…” she struggles again before the world fades to black.

***

“…we think it was the Opni tea. Being the ‘leaders’ we were the only ones to drink the tea during the festivities…” the voice swims in and out of her head.  
“…I don’t see any reason to expect lasting effects, the drug should be completely out of your systems within a few days…”

“Carson?” her voice is croaky. She remembers screaming, but not why. Carson is there, hovering over her, warm smile as always. “Elizabeth, welcome back, how are ya feelin’? You had some wild pa…” she doesn’t hear the rest of Carson’s words as she notices John standing behind him off to the side. His eyes are wide and hesitant. He wants to run, but he’s not sure which direction he wants to go, so he stands there, lost. From her infirmary bed, Elizabeth can only stare back, equally so.

**Three**

God. His hands are everywhere. Sure fingers trail up her thighs, ghosting over smooth flesh as his lips circle her belly button, making her want to squirm. His laughter washes over her stomach in puffs of moist air. She arches into his touch, head pressing further into the pillows, silently gasping before John reaches up to capture her lips. His kisses are deep. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers against her mouth.

Her arms come up to hold his head in place as she kisses him back, fingers sliding through thick unruly hair. His hands skim her sides to rest on her hips, bringing their bodies flush with one another. “John.” his eyes are almost black in the dim light, so focussed on her own, she wants to look away because it’s just too much. 

Then he’s gone, moving lower once again, leaving behind a trail of lips and teeth along her breastbone, down her stomach to the patch of soft curls. He kisses just above her clit, and she can’t help but moan, spreading her legs that little bit further. Lower still, his tongue pokes out to trace her outer lips. “Oh god”. John Sheppard; religious experience. Delicious fire grows in her belly, begging for release, when a high pitched screaming ends it all.

Elizabeth jerks awake, sweat soaked hair plastered to her rapidly cooling skin, heart thumping in her chest. She scowls at the shrill alarm clock…

**Four**

“My Conel?”

“Conel/Colonel, it’s an easy mistake to make,” Elizabeth said, slowly pacing the room, or ‘consummation hut’ as closely translated as possible from the native’s tongue.

“Well my team can’t be more than 10 minutes away, we just need to stall until then.” John shifted uneasily on his feet. Luckily Elizabeth had talked the natives out of providing them with eyewitnesses, but unfortunately they still had a few voyeurs outside their very thin walls.

“So what are you suggesting we do?”

“Fake it.” John replied with a grin.

“How?” Elizabeth’s harsh whispering sounded even louder in the enclosed space.

“I dunno, deep breathing, a couple of moans, rub some stuff together..” John suggested with a frown. Elizabeth tried to stifle her laughter, looking around for whatever props they could use in their little audio enactment. “God, this is going to be embarrassing.”

“Hey c’mon” John was trying to keep the laughter out of his own voice, “start off easy, a little groan or something”. Elizabeth groaned at the thought. “There you go!” She rolled her eyes. 

John made a little moan of appreciation in turn, choking back another fit as Elizabeth appeared to crack. “I can’t do this!” she whispered.

“Ok, think of…the ‘good times’…”

“The ‘good times’?”

“Yeah, you know, past experiences, kisses, slow, fast, down your neck. Hands, touching, skin…” he trailed off. Elizabeth looked at him. “We…ah…”

“I…ah…”

They stared at one another again. Not knowing who moved first, their mouths came together quickly as their bodies melded to one another, forcing the air from their lungs. Elizabeth’s hands ran over John’s chest, slipping beneath his shirt to touch warm skin. John’s found their way into her hair, finding purchase in the long curls. Their deep kisses continued, one running into another.

Neither heard the first polite cough from the doorway, the second overtly loud one managing to break the spell. John’s team stood before them, an array of smirking mouths and bemused eyes.

“Oh, hey guys...” John tried to sound as normal as possible. Elizabeth just licked her lips, straightening her clothing.

Rodney was the first to speak up. “I was going to say ‘we’re here to rescue you’, but it just seems so innocuous now…considering. What was that?”

“Diplomatic relations.” Elizabeth piped up before John could tell Rodney to mind his own business. 

**Five**

In her mind’s eye she can see John reaching for her. He pulled her into his arms, holding her for the longest time in the dark, where no one else could see. His lips found her neck, grazing it softly, unsure of his welcome. His touch was her undoing. Forbidden tears fell down her cheeks as she held on for dear life. Their one and only. The enemy was coming, she knew. She felt them inside, crawling in her blood, calling for her.

Pulling back she looked into his face, answering questions and saying goodbyes. Their lips moved together in a familiar way. Taste in the forefront of her mind. It was a fevered need, to touch, taste, bind. Wind their way into one another while they had the chance. Her time was running out. Clothes were lost to their silent need, disturbed only by frantic kisses and unbidden moans. They came together in the dark. Fulfilment of a secret never promised, and never spoken. 

She can see him moving within her that night. Hands splayed on her hips, holding her open as she received him time and again. Her own head thrown back as his mark was left inside her and she shattered in the night.

She screams as the hand is removed from her head. Down on her knees, she doesn’t need to look up to see the surrounding Asurans. She knows they’re trying to understand. She is a part of them, and yet she holds something inside which they cannot touch. Her last hold on humanity.


End file.
